


A Little Further

by simplesetgo



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-23
Updated: 2011-06-23
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Seeker Porn Battle, solo prompt Kahlan - imagination</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Further

She’s safe here in this thicket of leatherwood, her back to a great oak and surrounded by brush and shrubbery, surrounded by the scent of earth. She’s safe to sink down, sit with knees wide apart, pull the hem of her traveling dress up, up, up her thighs. She pauses, thinks for a moment; sighs aloud and brings her legs together to yank off her underclothes—she’s waited a long time for this; it’s been too long and she means to be here awhile, means to do this with nothing in the way or not at all.

So Kahlan parts her thighs, exposing herself to everything and no-one; a glance down and she’s blushing at herself, blushing at the wetness so visible there in small, dark curls. Her fingers are nearly trembling when she finally touches herself, that slick and smooth skin like satisfaction on her fingertips. Eyes fluttering shut, Kahlan explores herself with one finger, with two, stroking up, prodding in—but just a bit; she’s teasing herself, warming up to something wonderful, but also making an important decision.

Either it’s hardened muscles, strong arms, a warm, familiar scent and a gentle kiss or something different, something dangerous, something she’s done before and she still remembers it—that time she thought of Cara: Cara’s body, Cara’s confident smirk and her feminine curves and her Agiel and the way her fingers are slender and strong out of her gloves. It was a taste of the forbidden, the smallest sampling of the unthinkable and Kahlan Amnell came so hard her teeth tingled—if it ever actually happens, her and Cara, Kahlan thinks she might be the one that wouldn’t survive.

The pads of Kahlan’s fingers are wet, slickened with how much she needs this and Kahlan just surrenders, thinks of that time they were in the lake and she bravely offered to wash Cara’s back and Cara accepted, against all odds, and her skin was so very soft and smooth that Kahlan was surprised by it. And she wishes, now, that she hadn’t turned away once Cara left for the shore, hadn’t given her that unwanted privacy after she glimpsed the curve of Cara’s spine, the curve of her hips, tanned skin dripping water as she stepped from the lake.

So Kahlan thinks; Kahlan imagines; Kahlan goes back to that place, thinks of what that soft, smooth skin would feel like pressed up against her own, what it might taste like under her tongue. She imagines those lips, red as cherries and full and wet and maybe parted in surprise when Kahlan grabs her, pulls her close in the water, feels her breasts crush against her own.

There’s a pang in Kahlan’s core and she grits her teeth. There’s no time for this, her body says. Hurry up, her body says. Touch here, her body says. And Kahlan’s fingers find her clit and push and rub, rub, rub, quicker and quicker until Kahlan’s mouth falls open, forms a circle and she imagines it’s Cara’s pink tongue on her sex: the jolt from it is physical, Kahlan’s hips jerking into her hand—no, jerking against Cara’s open mouth, insistent, wanton, abandoning herself and everything that isn’t her need.

Cara wouldn’t be content, though, she wouldn’t be content with this: she’d want to make Kahlan moan, loud and pure and raw and she’d do whatever it took to hear that. She imagines Cara pushing her down at the lakeshore and taking her, three fingers deep with a smirk that says maybe she’ll use more and Kahlan would let her; she’d let Cara do anything to her, would try anything to see that smirk become a pleased smile. Kahlan’s curled her fingers, slid them down, slid them inside herself where everything is warm and slick and soft and she imagines that Cara is feeling that, feeling the inside of her, that they’re Cara’s fingers; Cara is doing this to her, filling her and pushing, pushing, then curling those slender fingers as she drags them back out—pumps them in and out, harder, faster, and it’s the heel of Cara’s palm that’s grinding against her clit, giving her that burning friction she needs: everything she needs and more and nothing less.

She’s panting, her body’s too warm: she feels a flush spreading across her chest, feels sweat trickling between her breasts, feels that heat gathering deep in her belly, ready to become something else. She pants out Cara’s name and a feeble moan leaves her throat and that’s not good enough, that’s not what Cara wants. But Cara wants her to come and Kahlan tilts her head back, mouth falling wide open; brow pinched, eyes closed, she works her wrist fast, burning and rough, and she screams out as her orgasm takes her—a flight of birds, startled, is suddenly loud in the treetops—magic pulses in her, surging free, her jaw snaps shut and she bites her tongue and hisses, doesn’t care: the tangy, iron taste of blood is something Cara would like during sex and Kahlan would give it to her if she wanted and besides the pain is lost in pleasure, so much of it that Kahlan trembles, Kahlan arches, Kahlan works her fingers slower and slower until she’s looking down, at her fingers sliding in and out of herself, pulling every last bit of pleasure from her. They’re soaked; Kahlan’s hand is wet like it was dipped in that lake, fingers and palm, and she brings it to her mouth, licks the heavy taste of herself from her skin because it’s easy to imagine Cara ordering her to.

Kahlan is safe here, far enough away. She rests a moment, long enough to let the sweat cool her skin, idly leveling her hand in front of her face to watch it shake. A deep breath, a regained control, and Kahlan loosens her corset, slides a hand inside where her breasts are soft and their peaks hard and sensitive. Her other hand, because Cara has two, after all, slips back down between her thighs where it belongs, the only place it belongs, and begins to stroke, slowly this time, over slick and heated flesh. And Kahlan closes her eyes because she is not yet sated, because she means to be here for awhile and there are many moments, many times where Cara said and did things that Kahlan’s imagination can take a little further.


End file.
